annotated extra story, nsfw, charlie masturbating, modern
He’s got the timing down for their schedules. The days she will be coming home—coming over, that is—he goes in to work early and leaves work early. There’s been a problem building up lately that he’d rather avoid coming to light: he’s in love with his best friend.
And their closeness, their affection towards one another… he’s failed to explicitly inform her how touch affects him, which is to say: immensely. With her, there’s an open invitation to touch, and she’s rarely seen him around others, so she perhaps doesn’t realize the pains he goes through in order to avoid even the most casual of contact with others.
This, coupled with his want for her when they cuddle up close, always results in a dire wish for relief. So, under guise of freshening up for her arrival, he’s taken to showering and relieving the problem for the night. It leaves him free to spoil her with affection without distraction.
As he rinses the shampoo from his hair, the fantasy starts. Her fingers running through his hair as she pets him, smiling at him in that gentle way she does. It’s her hands running over his body, not just him washing. Her hands…
She’s a habit of running her fingers along his neck, hooking a finger along the neckline of his shirts to play with idly. Even remembering this shoots pleasure down to his groin, remembering the gentle way she massages his skin, occasionally running her fingers over his chest when she curls against him.
The way she smiles, laughs, seems to enjoy their time together…Charlie rinses himself again and leans against the wall, stroking himself to his full size. His breathing stutters as he imagines her blushing at him, kneeling between his legs as they sit at the couch. He’s delicate with his touch as he imagines her pawing at him through his pants, running her fingers along his stomach and thighs to tease him.
He’d be smiling at her, enjoying the attention, and she would slowly, slowly slide his pants down. What sort of face would she make? Maybe she’d bite her lip and smile shyly at him, the way she does when his hugs linger a little longer than necessary. And her charming blush… so cute.
Charlie sighs to himself as he starts an agonizingly sluggish rhythm, imagining her acquainting herself. Kissing up and down… paying special attention to the tip, aaah… His breath stutters out once more.
Her mouth on him. What would she do? Thandi is clever. It wouldn’t take her long to find something he would enjoy. Her tongue… swirling just like that… moist. Hot. Slick. She’d take her time, he’s certain, and oh… oh… he’d ask her to undress.
How would she do it? That smile she gets sometimes when she teases him, that’s the one. When she knows she’s got the upper hand in whatever silly game they’re playing. And her eyes wouldn’t leave him, not once. He’d follow her example. Invite her into his lap.
Her lips… must be so soft. She would taste amazing. He’d kiss and suck and lick as she hovers just above him, just one errant buck away from union. Her breasts… they’re wonderful.
She’s spent more than one night braless, chest pressed to his, nipples peaked from the cold. He can’t seem to help but remember those winter nights as she snuggled up, his eyes scanning her body even as he willed himself otherwise. And here… he would love to touch and stroke them. They’re probably as soft as her mouth. Hmmn…
Imagine pressing the tip of his cock to her hot entrance, feeling how wet she is from the play. She’d likely be shy. Take her time. Build the tension.
Her name falls from his lips involuntarily. “Thandi…”
Pressing into her. Feeling her envelope him.
“Thandi…”
Sliding down his length, squeezing around him.
“Aah… fuck… Thandiii…”
The climb to orgasm begins in earnest. He wants desperately to watch himself sink into her, watch her take him in, see her face as she cries out for him. She would kiss him between moans of pleasure, try her best to keep up with his bucking hips. And he’d be sure to tell her how he feels the entire time.
“Thandi… I love you… I love you… I love you… please, gods…”
He could weep from how good it would feel to have her clamp down on him, thighs squeezing closed as she cries out. And he wouldn’t stop, no! He wants to give her pleasure that she could never manage to give herself.
“Aaaahn… Thandi! Fuck… yes! Yes! You feel so good!” She would. She would! Yes! More, just a little more, imagine that cute little squeal, imagine her voice as she bounces on him, imagine as her nails dig into his skin, as he nips and sucks and licks her neck and her chest as they—oh, oh, oh, oh!
Inside of her. He cries out her name, free hand slamming the tiled wall of the shower, imagining filling her, imagining how she would drip with him!
The pleasure is immense.
It fades slowly, and it’s like sound comes back. The hiss of the water, his own ragged heartbeat, the whirring of the bathroom fan. He rinses himself off one last time and turns the water off. The heat of the water is a good cover for his flushed face, washing away the sweat and the dazed expression.
He likes to think that Thandi enjoys seeing him fresh from the shower, baring some skin for her. It’s wishful thinking, but it makes him happy all the same. He hums a melody as he dresses and dries, stretches out the drowsiness that accompanies his relief.
He exits his bedroom and there she is, headphones in. His heart skips a beat and there’s an instant where he wishes she knew and reciprocated. Of course, that’s just wishful thinking. He knows better by now not to get his hopes up. They’re just close. Charlie creeps up behind her and pulls the earbud from her ear before wrapping her into a tender hug. “Hey, welcome home.”